Don’t Ask Me What’s for Dinner

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It’s 6pm. I suppose I ought to at least think about dinner.

My husband, he’s not worried about dinner. He’s still at work and won’t be home for at least another hour. My kids, they aren’t worried about it either. They don’t exactly know how dinner’s going to happen, they just know it will.

If my family’s smart, they won’t ask me what’s for dinner. Their typical reactions are almost sure to cook their goose.

Chicken AGAIN?

Ugh, meatloaf.

But green beans squeak when you chew them! [read more…]

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